


Company

by Alsike



Series: Company [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, background Alex/Maggie, background Lena/Kara, background Lena/Roulette, bar hookup, useless exercise in flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 18:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8589649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alsike/pseuds/Alsike
Summary: Lena wanted to drink and maybe find someone to fuck to get her mother out of her head.She finds Alex.





	

**Author's Note:**

> (I had some great prompts that went into this, and the ideas were all better than what this turned into. But I really enjoyed writing it on the bus into campus this morning, so thank you prompters!
> 
> Relevant music:  
> Regina Spektor, Dance Anthem of the 80's  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-okd1I1V3q8  
> )

The bar, a hollow empty space with no pretensions at warmth or comfort, stretched into shadows on each side. Gloomy and drab, like Lena's mood, it suited. She wasn't in the mood to smile or flirt or dance. The music was turned down low enough to discourage any attempts at it, and the solitary bartender looked dour and uninterested in confession.

Other moods would drive her to gay bars by the docks, brightly lit and blasting electric-disco loud enough that her ears would ring for the next few days. It didn't matter if she got photographed there. The tide of shirtless gay men was camouflage for lesbians and straight girls alike. But music and sweat pushed her out of herself, and tonight she wanted to sink into herself, into all of the dark holes and grime that her mother's acid had worn into her.

A flicker of movement caught her eye, the slide of hair, widening eyes. There was a woman at the bar, hunched over a glass too large for whiskey neat. "Lena Luthor? What are _you_ doing here?"

Lena went stiff. Her lip curled, she fixed her eyes on the woman's face. "Who?" Dammit. She was familiar. Not just someone who had seen her on the news. The visage clicked into place. "Ah, Action Danvers. This city _is_ far too small."

The woman turned away, shoulders hunching up, staring down into the translucent russet of her drink. "Tell me about it."

 _Unthreatening_. Lena took the stool one away and signaled for the bartender.

"I keep looking over my shoulder and even when I go somewhere I've never been I run into people I know."

Lena snorted at the dry and familiar annoyance. She let herself regard the woman, remembering the fierce girl who had grabbed the arm of them man who had been about to shoot her and then beat him to a pulp, the awkward introduction in Kara's apartment. Her sister. Foster sister if she had put together the hints Kara dropped well enough. Two adopted girls with foster siblings called 'Lex. Irony.

But this evening Alex was neither fierce nor awkward. There was something rougher and hollower in her face. Lena wasn't going to ask. Dives were where you went to run from your problems, not to chat about them.

"Well," Lena said dryly, "you're not the worst I could have run into."

"Same."

The bartender set Lena's drink down, and Lena felt Alex take in the no-fun drink, and watch half disappear in one go down her throat. It burned, but not more than the rest of her life.

"Why are you here?"

Lena shot her a look, letting the ugly frustration show on her face. Weren't they just saying--

"I just mean you're here to get blitzed. If you just want to drink-- don't rich bitches just call for their drinks cart, take their valium, and drink until they pass out?"

"Fuck you too." Lena sneered. "Don't working girls like you buy a bottle from the liquor store and drink out of a paper bag to keep the costs down?"

Alex had the audacity to laugh.

Lena rolled her eyes. "Since you asked and it seems the answer isn't _obvious,_ I can explain. What makes liquor even more fun? _Company_."

Now Alex looked confused. What was this?

"You wanted to find someone to talk to? Here?"

Lena groaned. " _No._ I wanted someone to _fuck_. God, why are both you Danvers girls this dense?"

But she'd brought it up, so she let herself look. Seriously. She didn't know who had failed to teach the Danvers girls about sex, but they'd both gotten good enough genetics to make up for it. Alex's eyes were wide, and to Lena's surprise she was looking back. She was _looking_ , her eyes lingering on the curve of thigh, the place where Lena's shirt rode up slightly, hinting at a sliver of skin, finding cleavage, and showing it with a sudden tightness to her mouth.

No cigarettes allowed in bars anymore, so Lena worked with what she had, pushing her hair to the side and turning her shoulders, just enough to display her _advantages_ more compellingly. "Tell me, Action Danvers, don't you ever like _company_ with your liquor?"

Alex's throat bobbed as she swallowed. "You've been hanging out with my sister. You . . ."

"Like her? Of course." Kara was . . . perfect in her normalcy, sweet, gentle, all of the things her mother sneered about. And Lena had pressed, teased, tried, but the façade didn't break. Kara Danvers was Supergirl, and Supergirl was just as good and kind and earnest as she appeared. She almost wanted to buy Cat Grant a drink. Someone who had risen to the top on the back of pettiness and ugly gossip had seen Supergirl for what she was and given up on her usual methods of engaging with notoriety. She'd swung for the fences on her 'faith in Supergirl'. Supergirl was _just_ that charming.

Alex's forehead was furrowed into lines. "Did you want her to be . . . _company?_ "

Lena snorted and whiskey burned up the inside of her nose. "Hell no. Your sister is lovely, but if I went near her while feeling like this, I'd hate myself. Anyway, she'd probably try to 'comfort' me, and that is _not_ what I mean by company."

Alex was still staring, but her gaze had moved to her face, resting there, as if she was trying to get inside Lena's head. Well good luck with that. She nodded slowly. "I don't know."

"What?"

"You asked me if I liked _company_ with my liquor." Alex offered a thin-lipped smile and shrugged. "I don't know."

Lena felt her eyebrow arch, but she couldn't restrain the incredulity. "You don't?" Alex looked back into her drink.

There was something about the question, something . . . inviting. This wasn't a gay bar, Lena reminded herself. This wasn't even a 'lady bar' where the art of the subtle conversation was necessary to separate those there to be away from men and those there for women. This was just a dive with a clearly depressed woman halfway through 8 fluid ounces of whiskey. But it was Action Danvers. She'd seen Lena shoot someone and hadn't blinked. Lena rested her chin on her hand and smiled, letting her gaze droop lazily. "Well, pairing company and liquor is an art. Have you tried any particular combinations?"

Alex darted a look at her, half guarded by her hair. "Some kinds."

"Have you, for example, tried pairing whiskey and _male_ company?"

"Tequila," Alex said, and Lena grinned for real.

"And did you like it?"

"No." That was flat and final.

"But you haven't tried . . . alternatives?"

Alex looked away again, shaking her head, agreeing. "Something like that."

Lena smiled, flashing her teeth. "Aren't you lucky."

"Lucky?" As desired, Alex was looking at her again, suspicion in her eyes.

Lena slid over to the stool right beside her and reached out, letting her hand rest on Alex's jean-clad knee. "To be able to find out."

Alex stiffened. Her arm jerked and she nearly knocked her whiskey glass over. Lena's smile grew wider.

"How-- How did you? When did you know . . . for sure? Was one time--"

"Oh honey," Lena squeezed the tight, well defined muscle in her leg. "I went to boarding school. I'd been fucking girls for years before I realized that I'd choose them when I actually had options."

Alex tensed at the vulgarity, but she didn't pull away. "And is it . . . always girls? Do you only want girls?"

"More or less." Lena shrugged. "I've tried boys, but they always want to push me around. In bed or out of bed, I like to be the one pushing."

She could see Alex gulp, and run the tip of her tongue over her lips. Was her saliva thickening? Her pupils dilating? Her pulse increasing? She'd need to get closer to know for sure. But signs were pointing to yes. Arousal, but also confusion, tension, insecurity.

Lena loosed her knee and reached out, veering past the guardianship of Alex's jacket and tucking her fingers under Alex's soft knit shirt, letting them brush against warm skin. Alex's eyes went wide. But she let the caress continue, Lena's thumb rubbing up her belly, nails trailing along her side.

"Just to be clear, I'm propositioning you. Penthouse. Lesbian sex. More and better alcohol, and possibly a route to self knowledge. Say yes, Action Danvers. I want you to say yes."

"Alex. Call me Alex."

"I still need you to say yes."

"Why?"

 _Because I didn't get to_. And the cold smile, the amused eyes, the thrill and fear as she was pressed up against the dusty shelves in the back of the library's science section, hands up her oxford and jumper, the snake-like whispers in her ear. And now she had those stupid tattoos. It was embarrassing having lost her virginity to someone so tacky.

"Because . . . I want this to be a gift. And gifts are no fun if the recipient doesn't want them." Alex tipped her head to the side, a gentleness crossing her face that Lena hadn't seen yet that night. She'd looked like that in her sister's apartment--soft. Breakable.

Lena wasn't very good with breakable things. Her drink was empty. She pressed her lips together and let her hand draw away from Alex's waist.

The loss of warmth was unpleasant.

Alex took a shaky breath and knocked back the last of her whiskey. She set her jaw, a line drawing in the center of her forehead--determination--and she didn't look breakable anymore. It was armor, not reality, but it was still a relief. People who let themselves be breakable wanted Lena to be breakable, and she didn't have that kind of gentleness in her anymore.

"I promise you'll have a good time. Even if you decide you don't favor this pairing with liquor either, you won't regret having tried. But I need to know that you want it, that you'll let me show you what I can, do with you what I want. Anyways, I owe it to you. You did save my life."

Alex's eyes went dark, they slid over her, taking her in, and Lena felt the change in her own mouth, in her own breath. Alex's shoulders, drawn in and forward like a bird protecting itself from the rain, guarded her, her head dipped, but turned, curious, closed and open, dark and light, hurt and hopeful. Slowly she gave a microscopic nod. "Yes." It was barely more than a murmur. Then louder. "Yes."

Lena smiled, wide and dangerous, drawing back up into herself, into her strength, into the power her mother liked to knock out of her. But Alex Danvers--she was a prize worth having, a prize worth gloating over. "Oh, I can't wait."


End file.
